To Die By Your Side
by JohnLennonsThighs
Summary: Nora's a quiet, curious girl with a hot temper. After landing herself in a spot of trouble at what should have been an innocent house party, she relies on her best friend, George Harrison, and a few new faces. She just might be able to get by with a little help from her friends. But at what cost?
1. Chapter 1

Foreword from the author;

I previously uploaded a story by the same name almost 5 years ago. I'm not sure if the people who read it when it was first published are still on this website, but after all this time, thanks to everyone who took the time to read, review, follow & favorite my stories on here. The last time the original version of this story was updated (March 2013), I didn't take time out of my day for, half a decade now, to write a single word for my own pleasure. I'm back now because something drew me back to my first story, Two of Us, and I reread the entire thing over the course of a day. Something sparked inside of me. Now, I'm back to restart the story of Nora, and reshape her destiny, because after all these years, I've changed and come to realize that the fate of all of my characters had been horrendous in the most unnecessary ways. I hope you all enjoy this, and to any new readers out there, welcome! I go by the screen name JohnLennonsThighs and I'll always have a special place in my heart for the Beatles.

Nora's POV

I remember the first day we _really_ met, or rather night. It was late October of 1959, nearly Halloween. My 18th birthday had come and gone on the 9th, the same day as John's. Except he was one year my elder. None of that particularly mattered, though, seeing as we hadn't spoken much to each other until that fateful night. A friend of a friend hosted a party, inviting a bunch of older college students as well as the younger "kids" such as myself stupid enough to hang around the grownups. John Lennon was somewhere in the middle, but his demeanor was enough to gain respect from both the younger crowd and the twentysomethings. I didn't know him that well, but I did know _of_ him. Everyone in those parts of town knew John Lennon. He was a notorious heartbreaker, secret poet, and the resident bad boy. If you hung around with John long enough, you'd undoubtedly be labelled a troublemaker.

It just so happened that one of my closest friends, George Harrison was one of those unfortunate boys who received the misnomer of being a punk. I say misnomer because George was the complete opposite of anything generally associated with John Lennon. He was sweet, caring, gentle and well-mannered, as well highly intelligent and mature. The same went for another of John's best mates, Paul McCartney. Paul had a baby face with big doe eyes and a dainty nose. His feminine attributes had made him the target of several bullies across Liverpool, that is, until he joined forces with John and his crew. See, nobody in their right mind would think of crossing John. He was the unspoken John Wayne of Liverpool, but without the guns and American accent.

George and I had come to the party nearly two hours ago and I'd lost sight of him about forty minutes in. The majority of the people there were friendly enough, but I wasn't. I was shy, a little agitated and extremely anxious. I guess I wasn't drunk enough, but the atmosphere was seriously killing my buzz. Most of the time, I was the life of the party, competing against boys twice my size in kegstand competitions and stealing everybody's dance partners. Tonight, though, I wasn't in the mood. There were times when I got like this, when the world would just seem too much to handle, and the usually exciting commotion of a crowd would drain my energy.

Dizzying lights, blaring music and twirling figures mixed with the sweltering heat of bodies pressed tight together made my head swim. After several fruitless attempts at politely nudging people to make way for me, I elbowed my way through the crowd desperately, empty beer bottle in hand. Shouts of protest and looks of annoyance were aimed in my direction, but for the most part everyone simply ignored me, bopping to the Chuck Berry that had been turned up so loud it had been reduced to a series of fuzzy screeches and howls.

A blast of cool air hit me full on as I shoved through the back door, setting down the empty bottle along a long row of other empties on the porch. I took in a deep breath, relishing the fresh air as my head cleared a little. A curl of cigarette smoke flowed from the thin lips of none other than the infamous John Lennon himself. My gaze wandered up from his lips, past his long nose, up to those piercing brown eyes that appeared black in the faint orange moonlight. A stare-down resulted, lasting for what could have been hours as neither of us dared to back down. Eventually, he looked away, turning his attention back to the eerie tangerine moon. I sat down beside him on the cold iron bench, the boisterous commotion inside the only thing breaking the silence as I shoved my hands inside the pockets of my thin jacket.

"Are you alright?"

I was caught off guard, jumping a little as his voice sounded beside me. "What?"

He was staring straight at me, the cigarette that had been perched between his lips now held between his fingers. "Are you alright? You look a little pale, a little frightened, even."

"Yeah...I'm good. Mind if I bum a smoke?" I replied.

He raised his eyebrows before reaching inside of his jacket, handing me a cigarette and lighting it for me.

"Cheers," I said, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.

He lit another one for himself, and we sat in silence. I stamped out my cigarette and turned to him, "Well...I'd better get back in there. George must be looking for me by now... By the way, have you seen him recently? I lost him about an hour ago."

John looked at me curiously. "Nope, haven't seen him, love. D'you want me to help you look for him?"

I blushed, stammering a hurried, "That's fine," before scurrying back inside.

I searched for George amongst the cluster of bodies, another drink being passed to me by some faceless hand. After about twenty minutes and no sign of George, I chugged the rest of my drink down, feeling angry and reckless. An annoying throbbing erupted in my temples as the room began to sway. A pair of hands steadied me as I was about to fall to the ground.

"Hey, watch your step, doll," a vaguely familiar voice called from a million miles away.

"Wh-"

"Come with me. I'll take good care of you," he said, wrapping an arm around my waist.

I staggered through a doorway, supported by one of the jocks from my school. His name was Justin, I recalled. Where was he taking me? Justin released me from his grip, practically pushing me to an awaiting bed that most likely belonged to the host's parents.

"Hey," I mumbled, struggling to regain my voice.

I took a deep breath, opening and closing my eyes tightly a few times before Justin clambered onto the bed, straddling me.

"Hey!" I said, this time with more force. "Get off of me!"

He looked startled, but tried to restrain me. With what little coordination and force I had left in me, I cast my knee up between Justin's legs. His hands immediately flew to his groin as I used the opportunity to land a hard slap to his cheek. He rolled over dramatically, howling in pain. Just as I was about to turn away, the door flew open. John stood in the doorway, surprise flitting across his face for a split second before being replaced with hot fury.

John's POV

Nora had left me stunned. I'd hung around with her more than a few times, thanks to George being such close friends with her. She was a quiet girl for the most part, but lovely. She had long, curly dark brown hair that looked black under dim light, but once she stepped into the sun, it shone with tints of reddish browns. Her deep brown eyes were framed by long, thick lashes, and even thicker brows. Her nose crinkled when she smiled, like a mischievous kid. I thought she was beautiful, but I also thought she was totally off limits. I'd witnessed several blokes ask her out over the past year and each time she'd stammer out a polite rejection, turning away immediately and briskly walking off. She was timid in most situations, that much was clear, but I'd seen her wild side, too.

At school, Nora was the perfect student. She participated just enough in class for the professors to adore her, but not enough as to overdo it and become the teacher's pet. But outside of school, she turned into a completely different person. At times, she'd be quiet, withdrawn, casting her eyes to the ground when I looked at her. Other times, she'd be outspoken, loud, and to the point. And all the time, she was an absolute wonder. To be honest, she scared the shit out of me.

After Nora had gone back inside, I stared at the place where she had been sitting for what felt like an eternity. I caught myself fantasizing about her, snapping out of my reverie as I tried to work up the nerve to chase after her. I looked at the full, orange moon, taking it as an omen and imagining myself drawing power from it. I abruptly stood up, venturing back inside. Screeching girls being chased by randy boys, the heavy smell of alcohol, cigarettes, pot and sweat, and the unmistakable voice of my long time hero, Buddy Holly greeted me as I walked into the party.

" _...the way you dance and hold me tight,_

 _The way you kiss and say goodni-hi-hight,_

 _Rave on, it's a crazy feeling and uh, I know it's got me reelin'_

 _When you say, I love you_

 _Rave on..."_

Being nearly six feet tall gave me an advantage as my eyes swept the crowd for Nora. Despite my vantage point, I couldn't find her. Figuring upstairs would be my best bet, I trudged down a hallway packed with sweaty kids groping each other and bounded up toward the next level of the house. The landing at the top provided me with a view of four doors. One was open just a crack. I heard a man gasping in pain as I pushed the door open to find Nora, staring at me wide-eyed as she stood over some blonde kid I vaguely recognized.

"What the fuck is going on?" I bellowed, my nostrils flaring as I clenched my fists.

The kid stopped moaning to glance up at me in shock, while Nora snapped her head back to look at him, giving him a swift kick to the balls, a resounding crunch travelling around the room. I winced as her heeled shoe made contact, the man screaming.

"Nora! Nora, what the f-" I started, holding my hands up, signalling her to stop.

"Shut up!" she hissed quietly, looking murderous.

"You're a filthy fucking waste of space, and you better pray to God that you never run into me again, boy. I will make you wish you were dead," Nora said in a quiet, deadly tone, over-enunciating every syllable of the last sentence.

She spat once on him as he continued to groan, turning on her heel to breeze past me. I grabbed at her arm, but she shook me off and continued walking. I stole a last glance at the kid and stumbled after her, feeling completely lost. She pushed past the people still crowded in the tiny hallway, calmly opening the door. I stepped outside with her, closing the door behind me as she took a seat on a bench on the front porch. I reached inside my jacket to take out another cigarette. Just as I was exhaling my first puff, she gently plucked the cigarette from between my lips and took a deep drag.

"Nora, what the hell just happened in there?" I said, bewildered.

She turned to give me a stony look, melting as our eyes met. She took another drag, exhaling as a single tear rolled down her cheek. "He tried to take advantage of me. At first I thought it was just...just gonna happen. But something inside of me kind of...woke up, and I got him off of me. After that, I couldn't stop. I didn't want to."

I sat there, stunned. She continued, " When you walked in, I felt mortified. I got even more angry and I decided to just keep going, because why not?" She threw her hands up and laughed darkly.

"See, and the thing is, even though nothing happened, something _could have_ happened. And, to be honest, people who do those sorts of things tend to be repeat offenders. What if he tries to do that to another girl? That's part of why I kept kicking him. I thought, even though I won't be able to catch this guy every fucking time he tries to hurt someone, I might as well put him out for awhile, you know?"

Nora nodded to herself, taking in another long drag off the cigarette, still nodding as she tapped the ashes onto the porch. I felt my heart aching for her at that moment. I wanted to pull her into a hug and tell her everything was going to be okay, that I wouldn't let anyone hurt her. But I didn't. We sat in silence yet again as my stupid brain couldn't formulate appropriate sentences to convey all the feelings rushing through my body.

"Nora, you're one tough customer," I blurted out stupidly.

She burst out laughing, in turn making me grin, the grin turning into an equally obnoxious laugh. After we'd both stopped, she stared at me, turning her head as she smiled thoughtfully.

"Let's get out of here, Lennon," she said in a worn out voice, tired smile still on her face.


	2. Chapter 2

October 28, 1959

12:08 AM

John's POV

"Let's get out of here, Lennon," she said in a worn out voice, tired smile still on her face.

I nodded, pursing my lips and furrowing my brow as I wondered what the night had in store for us; would Nora simply get up, bid me farewell and walk home, or would we finally have the chance to _really_ talk? I'd been itching to know more about this girl for ages, but her inconsistent nature had made it more than difficult. Constantly switching from withdrawn and bashful to a bold, limitless hurricane of a woman, Nora gave me a run for my money.

She stood up swiftly and without a word, pounding ungracefully down the steps leading to the walkway in the front yard. I followed suit, catching up easily and matching her pace. We walked together, Nora leading the way. I don't know if she was aware of the fact that I was following her lead, or if she was subconsciously guiding me along. Either way, we had been traveling for around fifteen minutes when we got up to the walkway of her house.

Warm yellow light emanated from the windows of the picturesque two storey home. I trailed along awkwardly behind Nora as we made our way to the side of the house, stopping as she unlocked the side door to the garage. She flung open the door, revealing nothing but the pitch black. My mouth must have literally dropped open as light flooded the room, pouring over four luxury automobiles. A sleek, cherry red Jaguar stood in contrast, beaming beside a brooding, jet-black Cadillac Coupe deVille. The two gleamed so beautifully that I nearly missed the Mercedes-Benz and BMW behind them. The latter two almost seemed quaint, humble in comparison to the others.

"You coming in?" Nora chuckled, snapping me out of my reverie.

I closed my mouth, feeling my cheeks become hot as I realized she must have seen me marveling. I knew Nora's parents had money, but I'd never fully realized the sheer volume of their wealth, or how exactly they'd managed to attain such a fortune.

Nora beckoned to me once again after failing to answer her question. I stuffed my hands into my pockets and trudged along behind her, once again feeling like a complete outsider. I'd never been in her house before, let alone met her parents. For that matter, I'd never met any girl's parents. I was John fucking Lennon, I wasn't the type of guy to stick around, but Nora had me completely in her grasp, feeling like a lost puppy at that moment.

"Baba!" she hollered, leading me down a short, dimly lit hallway with deep mustard-yellow walls. Framed photos hung in a cluster, all in black and white. A haunting voice emanated from behind a partially open door. As Nora pushed the door open, I was greeted by the sight of a family of three gathered around a long wooden table laden with a feast. Massive ceramic bowls filled with colorful foods juxtaposed against the dark stain of the wood, surrounded by tiny glass dishes, a pitcher of a creamy, buttery-looking liquid, and a big metal pot that steamed endlessly. The voice seemed to be coming from a small record player off to the side, perched on a spotless bar-style countertop that offered a view of the large kitchen.

The people seated around the table were terrifyingly beautiful in the same way that Nora was. A chubby man sat dressed in a long, white robe and small, fitted white cap on his head. His beard was immaculately-kept, close cut with sharp lines. To his left, at the head of the table was a small, sunkissed young woman with long, curly black hair and piercing green eyes, wearing an ornately-woven dress with long, fluted sleeves that draped elegantly from her thin wrists. Opposite the man was another woman who resembled the first one, with delicate, barely noticeable laugh lines around her mouth and dark eyes. Her hair was twisted into a lazy bun, little flyaway hairs curling ever so slightly around the nape of her neck and ears.

A man sitting at the table glanced between Nora and I, smiling goofily. He chattered at Nora in a foreign language, laughing loudly as the older woman clucked her tongue, clearly protesting against the man's remark in the same language.

"Mama... _bes_ ," Nora said, holding one hand up to the woman, signalling her to stop. "Baba, mama...this is John. We go to the same college and he's friends with George, too."

"Hello, John. It's nice to meet you," the man said in a heavy accent, standing up to shake my hand. "My name is Khalid, I'm Nora's father. This is my wife, Lara, and my other daughter, Ofra."

"Pleased to meet you, sir," I replied, feeling the sweat gathering in my palms as I glanced around the room.

Ofra and Lara stood up from their chairs, each shaking my hand with a firm, respectable grip that I'd never felt from a woman before. They politely smiled at me, introducing themselves before sitting down again.

"Please, join us. We are just in the middle of eating, but we have plenty left and would love for you to stay," he said, extending his arm out to gently push me toward the table.

"Baba," Nora began, rolling her eyes. "We're going out. Besides, I don't think he's ever had anything besides British food, so I'm sure he won't want to stick around."

I blushed even deeper, shooting daggers out the corner of my eye at Nora, willing her to stop embarrassing me.

Khalid sighed as Lara turned to Nora, speaking in a disapproving tone in that language again. Nora clucked her tongue, rolling her eyes as she argued back in a bored tone. When Khalid had had enough of the back and forth arguing, he raised his hands, silencing both women as Ofra watched in amusement, not even bothering to hold back a grin.

After mediating between Nora and Lara, Khalid turned to me with an apologetic face. "I'm sorry, John. These two, they cause me the worst headaches. And they're even being polite since you're here. Imagine what they get up to when no one is around! I understand if you wish to leave."

I stood there, once again at a loss for words as Nora interjected before I had a chance to formulate a single word. "Okay! Sorted. Bye!"

She turned on her heel, walking out. I turned to glance back at the family. "It was really nice meeting you all. Umm...maybe I'll see ya round, then?"

"Absolutely!" Khalid said, as his wife and daughter nodded in agreement. Ofra had already turned back to her food, losing interest while Lara bore a hole into my skull with an indecipherable stare.

"Great! Uh—bye!" I said, waving foolishly and practically sprinting after Nora.

I mentally slapped myself as I walked down the hall, the noise from the kitchen subsiding behind me as I walked past the garage door and into a grand foyer. A marble staircase loomed before me, wrapping around the room to frame a massive carpet, woven with deep burgundys, golds, and bright pops of turquoise in the most exquisite patterns. A small wooden bench beside an open wardrobe of shelves lined with shoes squatted next to the door, looking completely out of place amongst the grandeur of the house. Realizing I'd lost Nora, I glanced around the foyer at the two doors located on opposite ends of the room before tentatively walking up the stairs. I made my way up to yet another hallway which ended abruptly at a door before snaking off deeper into the house.

Nora poked her head out of a doorway down the hall, waving her hand at me. "Come on, Lennon. Help me find my keys."

"Why'd you leave me down there to fend for myself?" I said, still bewildered by the whole situation.

She cackled, her head disappearing back into the room. I sighed in frustration and paused at the doorway, peering into what I could only assume was Nora's room. The walls were a soothing butterscotch brown, ornate glass lanterns hanging from the ceiling. The room had an overpowering smell of fragrant burning wood.

"Nora, _what_ is that _smell_?" I asked, unsure whether I liked it or not.

" _Bakhoor_ ," she said absently, legs poking out from under her bed as she rummaged around.

"Ba-what?" I replied, still taking in the marvelous home decor.

"Bah-khoor," she repeated, this time slowly. "It's just some traditional shit my parents like to keep around the house to make it smell nice. I keep telling them it's like lighting a fire and then piling bricks on the top of your chimney, but they never listen...Aha! Got 'em. Let's go!"

Nora waved her keys triumphantly in the air as I wondered which of the cars we would be taking.


End file.
